


Bite Me

by penguins_and_such



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Multi, Vampire AU, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16392683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguins_and_such/pseuds/penguins_and_such
Summary: The edgy vampire fic that literally no one asked for.





	Bite Me

 

The bell above the café door dings. Kenma glances back at Keiji, who had been tidying tables in that way that meant he was entirely too bored and just wanted something to keep his hands occupied. It’s three in the morning and their shift was almost over. Whoever walked through the door would only be their fifth customer of the night.

Fifth and sixth, apparently. Kenma grabs two menus from their stand in the back and goes to greet the pair. His first thought upon approaching them is that he wishes it had been Keiji’s turn. These guys are tall and muscular. At least Keiji is tall too.

The one on the right has what has got to be the worst case of bedhead that Kenma has ever seen. He’s tall, with pale skin and jet-black hair. His companion is the shorter of the pair, with the most ridiculous hairstyle he’s seen. Black with streaks of gray, or maybe gray with streaks of black? It’s also fashioned to look almost like two horns. Well, is it any better or worse than the mess on the other guy’s head?

Whatever, he’s not paid enough for some of the people that come in.

They’re speaking in hushed whispers when Kenma approaches, but both stop speaking abruptly once he’s in earshot.

Definitely not paid enough.

“Just the two of you?”

The taller one gives a charming smile. “Yes, just us.”

Kenma turns and gestures without changing his expression. He’s been working on perfecting it over the months he’s worked here. Keiji assures him it conveys ‘thanks for coming, but don’t try to talk to me unless it’s about food’ perfectly. “Right this way.”

He thinks he hears one of them snicker as he leads the way to their booth. As they sit he sets their menus down and pulls out his order pad. “What can I get you to drink?”

Bedhead doesn’t even look at the menu. “Just a coffee.”

“Cream?” Kenma questions without looking up from where he’s scribbling it down.

“Sure.”

He turns to look at his companion, who is peering down at the drink menu like it’s written in hieroglyphics. “And for you?”

The question draws him out of his concentration and he looks up at Kenma with wide eyes. “Uh, an orange juice, I guess.”

“I’ll have that right out for you.” Kenma turns around to head to the drink station and ignores the feeling of eyes boring into his back. When he gets there Keiji is standing there under the pretense of wiping the stainless steel down, despite it already being spotless. He peers down at the order and wordlessly grabs a mug, Kenma himself fills a glass with orange juice. When he turns around Keiji is setting the mug of coffee and a carafe of cream onto a tray.

Kenma sighs as he sets the juice down on the tray too. Keiji really gets too restless sometimes, but it’s hard to complain about help.

As he approaches the table this time they don’t bother to stop their conversation.

“Listen Bo, I’m telling you it really wouldn’t work like that.” The one with the bedhead is giving his friend a dubious look.

“But how would we know, Kuroo? Would we even be able to tell?” The other one looks deeply distressed as Kenma quietly sets their drinks down.

Kuroo, he supposes that’s his name, pulls at his hair. “It’s just not possible, the chrysalis is made from the worm itself, so nothing gets in.”

Bo gives him a look like he’s deaf. “But what if something got in there? Would it be like _The Fly_?”

Kenma decides to cut into their conversation. “I don’t suppose you’re ready to order your food?”

Without missing a beat, Bo looks up at him and gathers their menus. “We actually won’t be ordering any food, thanks!” He holds them out to him with a friendly smile and Kenma takes them.

“Perfect.” He leaves their table, grateful he’s been saved one interaction from the odd duo.

Keiji gives him a quizzical look and Kenma simply shakes his head.

Like most customers that come in at night, it’s simply not worth expending the energy to try and understand. He hopes they finish their drinks and leave the café quickly; just being around them those few seconds had been draining.

The sun isn’t rising so much as breaking through the clouds, a fact Akaashi is grateful for as he walks with Kozume-san back to their apartment. The harsh rays that normally greet them in the morning tend to put a strain on his eyes.

“Looks like it might rain.” 

“Yeah.” Kozume-san’s hands are shoved deep into his hoodie and his eyes are already looking a bit glazed over. No surprise there, he’s usually half-asleep by the time his shift ends. Those two oddballs probably didn’t do him any favors, either.

Akaashi resolves to put them from his mind as they make the climb up their apartment stairs. They get eccentric looking people often, it’s to be expected working at such a small café, and even more so when they work odd shifts. Some might even become regulars, but there’s no use dwelling on them when he should be resting. 

* * *

 

Akaashi Keiji wishes, deeply, to be any place but here. So much so that even sneaking off to the grungy alley behind the café is starting to sound appealing. It reeks of smoke, foul alcohol and something that Akaashi tries really, _really_ hard not to think about when he has to go back there to take out the trash. Maybe if he drops a glass and it shatters he can get back there.

“Akaaaaasheeeee, are you listening?”

He’s driven from his destructive thoughts by the very same reason for them. “I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that, Bokuto-san.” He peers down at the golden-eyed menace sitting at the booth in front of him.

“I said, do you think fish know they’re wet?” His eyes remain wide, no trace of humor or irony.

Kuroo’s own expression turns deathly serious. “Bo, I’ve told you a million times, fish aren’t wet.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll be ordering anything but drinks?” Akaashi decides the best course of action is to retreat. It’s not like participating in their odd debates is actually part of his job.

Bokuto shoots him a winning grin, ignoring Kuroo’s incoming lecture. “You’re so good at this, Akaashi~ you already know us so well.”

A lot better than he’d like, but he doesn’t say as much. Instead Akaashi hums and goes to get said drinks.

Seeing as those two are their only customers, he shouldn’t be shocked to find his coworker crouched over his handheld.

“How much free time do they have that they can come up with such ridiculous things to discuss?” Akaashi speaks more to himself than anyone, not expecting a reply from Kenma.

He gets one anyway, Kenma’s hands not slowing in the slightest. “I think most of it is internet subculture.”

Akaashi resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead huffs out a tiny breath. Too loud to be a sigh, too exasperated to be a laugh. “I shouldn’t complain too much, they always tip well.”

Kenma glances up at him for a split second. “As they should, since they always stay over an hour and never order any food.”

“There is that, too.” Akaashi finishes pouring their drinks and walks back on to the floor, leaving Kenma to his relative peace.

Even relative peace has been hard to find lately. Sure, the nights they worked could be relatively busy, if there had been a big game, party or concert in their part of town the diner could get especially busy. For the most part though, their shift passed by sleepily, with one or two checks from around one to five am. They had a few regular people that would show up once or twice a week, but even they had a subdued atmosphere about them. Unlike these two, who had showed up almost every night that Kenma and Akaashi had to work. For all the energy these two were putting forth it could have been three in the afternoon.

What’s more is that they seemed intent on pulling whoever had to work the floor that night into their inane conversations. As if them being there, encroaching on their space, wasn’t bad enough.

Exhausting.

Still, his point from before stood. They did tip generously; some nights they ended up paying as if they had actually ordered a full meal and then some. What kind of job paid that much and left them with so many nights free?

Whatever, not his problem. He glances at the clock as he approaches and makes a token attempt to tune out whatever nonsense they’re spouting now. It almost works, but as he’s turning to go his thoughts are once more barreled down by the call of his name.

“Akaaaashee. You can’t just ignore us! That’s bad service.”

He likes to think he’s a patient man, that he has an excellent poker face. In the second it takes him to turn back though, the façade cracks; he feels his eyebrows raising on their own. “You’ll forgive me if my opinion of the measures of a quality of service differ from your own.”

Bokuto’s own expression becomes a sight itself; his own eyes widen a bit before a color settles high on his cheeks. A low whistle from Kuroo draws both their attention, fortunately, giving Akaashi a chance to calm himself. “Wow Bo, you’ve really done it now, you went and ruffled his feathers.”

“Sh-shut up! I was just teasing!” His head flicks over whip like to Akaashi. “Honest! You’re always a really good server, I just-” His wide-eyed gaze falls back on the table and the color on his cheeks solidifies into a blush. “I just wanted to get your attention… somehow.”

He feels himself humming contemplatively. “If you need me in a professional capacity, I’ll be around.” Finally, blessedly, he turns and takes his leave.

He gets back to his place behind the counter and busies himself with wiping down spare condiment containers. Unfortunately, his peace is shattered by Kenma, who apparently had caught a snippet of the minor commotion. “Did they ask you to smile, or what?” The clicking of buttons doesn’t stop or even slow.

Akaashi, in turn, doesn’t stop his own hands in their task. “He thought to critique my service etiquette. Which we apparently have an ideological disagreement upon the measure of one.”

“That’s a real pretentious way to say he called you out on being a grump.”

“Says the one who hasn’t looked up from his handheld once since they walked in.” He squashes the slight irritation at being read so easily. If anyone has the right to call him out it’s Kenma.

“It’s different when there’s no one actively vying for my attention.” The jab is thrown without so much as a glance upward.

He smothers a sigh, but just barely. Truly this night has left him with too much to think upon and it’s not even half over.

* * *

 

Kenma isn’t sure why he isn’t expecting them to waltz in, especially when they’ve been holding a steady record of showing up whenever either of them is working. Truly, it’s rare that they work without the other present but according to Akaashi they strolled in last Tuesday. It’s the only time it’s happened since the first night they met the oddballs and reportedly they gave poor Yachi a hard time.

Akaashi _is_ here tonight though, he’s just ducked into the back to start the weekly cleaning of one of the grills. Very convenient timing, but he doesn’t really have time to interrogate his suspicious luck. Kuroo and Bokuto are smiling at him expectantly from their now regular booth.

He doesn’t even bother picking up menus or pulling out his notepad, they’re the only customers present. The closer he gets the easier it gets to make out Kuroo’s lazy smirk and Bokuto’s too enthusiastic smile. It’s hard to think of them as customers when they’re here so often- more like they rent their booth with the purchase of drinks.

“So, a coffee for Kuroo, and what does Bokuto want today?” He doesn’t look at either of them, eyes instead focused on a tuft of stuffing poking out of the red booth seat.

Bokuto hums for a second before drawing Kenma’s attention with a wave in his periphery. “There’s hot cocoa, right?”

His face pinches a little at the thought of the cheap packets they keep next to their measly tea collection. “Yes, we have that.”

“Then that’s what I want, it’s freezing tonight!” He emphasizes his words with an exaggerated shiver that has his friend snorting in derision.

Kenma’s eyes cut to Kuroo at the noise, but his face is fond as he chides his friend. “You’re like a slab of muscle, how do you even get cold?”

He ignores the rebuttal as he turns to get their drinks. His eyes catch on all the wear on the dingy old coffeemaker as he flips a switch to heat a carafe of water. A glance further around the establishment reveals even more aging. Some linoleum behind the register is lifting up and out of place, its corner torn by being repeatedly kicked. In the leftmost corner a ceiling tile stands out- stark white against its yellow companions. It had to be replaced a few months ago when the old one fell out, crumbling to pieces. The place looks like it’s one bad storm from falling in on itself. It’s a wonder they even have regulars, let alone ones that keep such odd hours.

The smell of chocolate and sugar reaches him as he pours a hot chocolate packet into a mug with a small puff, the brown dust that escapes the mug scattering onto the counter. He pours hot water into the mug and wrinkles his nose. It’s definitely not the…quality of the drinks. He might not drink coffee but even he can tell the difference between fresh brewed and the measured packets they use to make theirs. Besides that, Bokuto never seems to settle on any one drink himself.

He grabs another mug and pours the coffee, leaving no room for cream or sugar. It can’t be the food; neither of them has ever eaten so much as a pastry. Both mugs go on a tray and Kenma holds it in both hands, heading straight back towards them.

It’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve, the reason they keep coming back. There’s one other thing, but it’s so ridiculous he almost refuses to believe it.

He must be wearing quite a look because Kuroo speaks before he’s even set the tray down. “That’s an awful thoughtful look, care to share?”

His eyes land on the messy haired man and he’s wearing an easy smirk. “Just wondering what the appeal to coming to this place night after night is.” The mugs are placed in front of the two with casual motions.

“Wow, do you really think so lowly of this place?”

A glance towards Bokuto shows him blowing on his drink furiously, Kuroo’s coffee remains untouched.

“We’re not exactly a five-star establishment, you two only ever get drinks, and they’re not exactly…good.”

Kuroo brings his mug in front of him and takes a whiff of the drink, his nose wrinkling. His eyes don’t meet his but instead stay trained on the dark liquid in front of his face. “Yeah, well, this place has other charms too. Diners are more about, like, atmosphere, you know?”

“This place has…atmosphere?” Kenma takes a moment to give the place a once over, and all he sees is the same grungy place. When he turns back Bokuto is eyeing the stuffing poking out of his seat, Kuroo staring at a chip in the table.

“Well, I mean-” He interrupts himself to take a sip of his coffee. “The service is good, and uh, isn’t exactly like, well.”

Bokuto cuts in. “Atmosphere is hard to describe, Kenma. Suffice to say the company here is sparkling.” A reassuring grin works its way onto his face.

He picks up the tray and tucks it under his arm. “I find that hard to completely believe.”

“Don’t sell yourselves short, it’s really nice to just, be here.” Kuroo is looking up at him without a trace of a smirk, his ears slightly pink.

“I don’t think we’re the ones selling ourselves short here.” He doesn’t bother to stick around for a reply before he walks all the way to the back, ducking into the kitchen, still holding the tray.

Akaashi looks up from the grill and gives Kenma’s flustered look a once-over. “Our tormentors return, I see.”

Kenma takes a second before replying. “Maybe they’re perverts.”

He gets a breathless laugh in reply as Akaashi goes back to cleaning. “I think at this point that’s a given.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be super self indulgent but hey if you're about it hop on along.  
> Beta is still [Windy](iamthewindything.tumblr.com)  
> Title credit to Eve


End file.
